


Breathing

by fauxfillorian



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluffy, Grieving, M/M, eliot has his back, queliot, quentin is feeling a bit lost, slightly ooc for fluff sake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauxfillorian/pseuds/fauxfillorian
Summary: Quentin is still coping with the loss of Arielle and Eliot just wishes he would talk to him about it.'A Life in the Day' deleted scene one shot.





	Breathing

Quentin pulled the sheets over Ted as he snuggled his small body into the pillow. Quentin pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead and turned to blow out the candle near the tiny cottage bed, stopping as Ted’s small hand touched his. 

“Goodnight, daddy,” he whispered with a yawn and a small smile. Quentin couldn’t help but smile back. The sight of a smile on his son’s face was more rare these days than he liked to think about. Arielle had only been gone a few months and Quentin was struggling to be a father, a positive light in his son’s life when he felt so shrouded in darkness every day. Every step he’d taken towards breaking down the emotional barriers he’d struggled with his whole life felt like they were being stripped away. Seeing his son work his way through the loss of his mother made Quentin feel like the scared, directionless, lost boy he was all those years before. 

“Goodnight, Teddy,” he said, his voice getting caught on the words as he noticed the black hair tie around his son’s wrist and images of Arielle using it to finish off her braids played on loop in his mind. He kissed Ted’s forehead and left the room before his son could see a single tear. 

Quentin made his way outside, gripping the side of the house for support as he inhaled the night air, forcing it into his lungs. The cool wind whipped his hair around, the chill calming him down as he tried to fix his breathing and hold back the tears that wanted to fall. 

“Quentin,” Eliot said, standing from the mosaic as he heard Quentin’s rapid breaths and turned to see him in distress, his eyes squeezed shut. “Hey, come on. Sit.” He ushered him over to the bench beside the house and pulled him close. “Breathe.”

Quentin stayed there, using the movement of Eliot’s chest beneath his ear to return his breathing to normal. Eliot rubbed Quentin’s arm until he was lulled back into tranquility, pulling away to look down at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Quentin nodded and started to stand. Eliot grabbed his wrist and brought him back down. “How about you stay here and tell me what that just was?” Quentin looked for a lie to avoid telling Eliot it was Arielle and the memory of her bringing him to tears for what felt like the millionth time. So many days he caught Eliot watching him as he stared off into nothing, consumed by the sadness that had _just_ stopped feeling so familiar to him before it was brought back in Arielle’s place. 

So many times he wanted to sob and complain to Eliot, needing him to hold him together. And so many times he told himself that this subplot, this family, was of _his_ creation and suddenly it would feel like such an unfair burden to expect Eliot to clean up the mess that would have never existed if Q had just focused on completing the mosaic. 

The pattern of self-blame was so familiar and Quentin hated that he was receding back to the boy he used to be but it was so hard to fight his way out of feelings that he’d held onto longer than any relationship he’d ever had. Every person he met, every person he loved would always be in constant competition with the dark cloud he’d known his whole life. 

“Is this about Arielle?” Eliot asked, pushing hair back from Quentin’s face so he couldn’t hide from him. He’d seen Q’s eyes glass over too many times, only to be replaced with a hard mask whenever he saw Eliot watching. Seen him open his mouth as they worked together on the mosaic late in the night only to snap it closed and decide against whatever he wanted to say. Eliot had been patient, letting Quentin take his time but tonight the sight of Quentin bent over gasping for air scared him more than he could let slide. “Talk to me.”

Quentin swallowed thickly and looked to the ground to block Eliot’s knowing wide brown eyes from sight. It was too much. “I just feel so lost,” he admitted finally. “I miss her,” he said softly. “But I don’t have _time_ to miss her,” he said firmly. “I have the mosaic, I have Teddy. Teddy-” his voice broke and he choked back tears as he thought of his son and all the things he felt he would miss out on having him as a father. 

“Arielle, she- she was supposed to be here. I wasn’t supposed to do this alone. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m supposed to raise him and look out for him? _Me?_ An institutionalized freak who spent 20+ years of his life choosing fiction over reality? I can’t-”

“No,” Eliot cut in. “You know who’s supposed to look out for Teddy? The boy who helped kill the Beast with his knowledge of that fictional world, the one who saved Alice, who would do anything for his friends and his family, who would do anything for Teddy,” Eliot said fiercely. “You are everything you need to be to be a good father. You are _already_ a good father.”

Eliot drilled the words in with his eyes, hard and unblinking. “No one was ever a better parent for not letting themselves breathe or grieve. And if it gets to be too much, what the fuck am I here for if not to pick up your slack, Coldwater?” he asked, smiling finally and Quentin gave a watery laugh in return.  


“I didn’t want to expect you to… I _don’t_ expect you to…” Quentin trailed off quietly. 

“Don’t be stupid, Q. I’ve always been all in with you,” Eliot responded with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve been on your side since I read your stupid ass name off that card in front of Brakebills. Quentin fucking _Coldwater_ ,” he said, pinching his brows together like he had then so accurately that Quentin started laughing hard. Eliot smiled, watching Quentin. He hadn’t seen him look that happy in a long time. 

“Now, can we agree to no more hiding?" Eliot asked, nudging Q's shoulder. "When you want to cry, I’m right here. When you need a break from the mosaic, fatherhood, I’m right here. It’s going to be shit some days but I say this from experience, suffering’s a lot less shit with someone else. I know you’ve spent a lot of time feeling alone but you’re not anymore. Let me help you remember that.”

**Author's Note:**

> How many Supportive!Eliot one-shots can I write before I get bored? A lot apparently. This was just a short little thing, I hope you enjoyed. I have a full length queliot fic featuring the whole gang that takes place in TV canon world that I'm writing and very proud of so please check that out if you wish and thanks for reading!


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